


Late Night Stroll

by fredsghost



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Quidditch, Schoolyard crush, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:27:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27618352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredsghost/pseuds/fredsghost
Summary: “You’re joking.”“Wish I was.”“You broke her arm and you don’t even know her name? Bloody rude.”
Relationships: Fread Weasley/Hufflepuff!Reader, Fred Weasley/Reader, Fred Weasley/You
Comments: 5
Kudos: 157





	1. Chapter 1

The painting swung open soundlessly and a flash of yellow darted past, keeping high alert for any noise or movement that wasn’t yours. Even in your night things, the Hufflepuff still sported an immense amount of house pride; bearing a yellow wool sweater and bee striped pajamas.

It had just chimed half past one in the morning at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the castle was well put under a deep sleep. If a teacher were to catch you roaming about well after hours and sneaking out if the kitchens, it was inevitable that you’d be in detention for possibly months. Probably even more if Filch and his bloody cat were the ones to find you. Everyone knew just how much he blew things out of proportion.

But the best thing about being a Badger was the spotless record and quite possibly the stereotype that came with it. It didn’t hurt either that everybody paid more attention to the blatantly rule-breaking Gryffindors or the chaotic Slytherin who were always looking for a fight it seemed. Because of this, the Hufflepuff basement was always the least patrolled after the Ravenclaw towers. You found a way to always work this to your favor.

Just like you were doing so now, robes fat and heavy, tied together to form a makeshift bag to carry the dozens of treacle tarts and pumpkin pies you’d been offered by the house elves. You really only visited the kitchens whenever you couldn’t sleep, and tonight was no different. Usually, after a warm cup of cocoa has done its job, you’d find your eyelids grow noticeably heavy and just promptly pass out.

You were humming contentedly to yourself as you neared the stack of barrels leading to your common room, mind drifting elsewhere and foggy with sleep. Just before you could reach the barrels though, you found yourself literally running into someone’s chest, a soft ’oof’ emitting from both of you, and you landed flat on your behind, bag of tasty treats clutched tight to your chest.

Immediately, your blood turned ice-cold as the other person reached out a hand to help you up. Before you could register the mop of tousled red hair or the freckled face, you were already apologizing.

“I am so sorry, Professor! I couldn’t sleep and I just—”

“Bloody hell, keep it down, would you? If you don’t, an actual Professor might come ‘round and then we’d both be sorry.”

You blinked in momentary confusion as you finally faced the stranger, who sported a massive teasing and shit-eating grin on his face. Relief flooded your system when you realized you recognized the ginger.

“Oh! Weasley!”

“…Weasley?”

“Yeah, you’re in my year, right? Along with your twin?” You wracked your brain for the name that belonged to the specific twin. “…George, was it? And you’re Fred?”

It was such a miniscule thing to others, but for Fred Weasley, the action rendered him speechless. It was a rather rare occurrence that he was identified correctly, used to having to tell people—even his own mum—of who he is. And, yeah, this girl might’ve probably just taken a guess at it but Fred appreciated it all the same.

“Uh—yeah, I’m Fred.”

You had recognized the Weasley twin almost immediately because not only were they were in your year or in a couple of your classes, but because you’d played against them and their house numerous times in Quidditch. They were also known to be ruthless Beaters and you could vividly remember a broken arm of yours in second year no thanks to them.

You also knew that the twins were practically infamous with the constant pranks and jokes they pulled on just about everybody. There were a number of times that you were warned to stay away from them and the Gryffindors entirely if you liked the color of your hair.

“By the way, what’re you doing out here after hours?” The cheeky grin made its way back onto his face as Fred crossed his arms. He shrugged nonchalantly. “Just curious.”

“I could ask you the same thing actually.” You shot him an identical smile back and made to step around the boy with your robes still cradled against you, but was blocked from doing so once again. At least this time you didn’t land on your ass.

You had to look up at the fifteen year old boy who, for some unfair reason, was already a head taller than you. “Yes?”

“You’re barefoot.” Fred found himself blurting, glancing down to the girl’s toes which were colored a dark yellow color. Probably gold if he squinted.

He didn’t know why he didn’t let her pass. Something about her intrigued him, probably something to do with the fact that he was in her year and didn’t notice her until now. A rebellious Gryffindor like him? Surely he would’ve noticed.

You chuckled. “And what of it? It makes less noise that way.”

Fred raised an eyebrow at this. “Quite the veteran, aren’t you?”

“Quite.” You nodded officially, fiddling with your robes, which drew Fred’s attention. “Surprised you haven’t noticed actually. I’ve only been sneaking out every other Tuesday.”

Fred snorted at the joke and gestured to the bundle in your arms. “Snacks, I gather?”

You nodded again. “Was only supposed to be a cup of cocoa but the elves insisted I take them, said I might get hungry.”

You revealed the numerous tarts and pies gathered in your robes and giggled. “They were right, I’m ravishing right about now.”

Just then, heavy footsteps rounded the corner accompanied by the sound of a clattering lamplight. Filch. Fred heard it first and quickly acted upon pure instinct. You barely had any time to react as he pulled you into a secluded alcove that Fred and his brother have used on more than one occasion.

“Who’s there?” Filch’s voice called out, his cat mewling softly as he stepped into the hall. “I heard voices! Show yourselves!”

If anything, Fred pressed himself closer to you as you started to breathe heavily with panic. And when breathing like that in an alcove that echoed, it tended to get rather noisy, so Fred slowly cupped your mouth as you stared at him with wide eyes. With his other hand, he indicated you to be quiet and calm down.

They stayed like that for a good two minutes, just silently communicating with their eyes, before Filch huffed and walked away, calling out to his cat to follow. But they waited a little more, ears straining to hear that Filch’s footsteps weren’t coming any closer and only then did Fred peak his head out to check if the coast was clear.

You peaked out as well before he could tell you to. Your fingers were shaking with adrenaline and your heart was beating so fast. But you’ve done this a hundred times before? Surely the pace of your heart didn’t have anything to do with the good-looking Gryffindor boy in front of you?

Fred turned to you, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “I think—”

“—we should get back to bed? Yeah, definitely.” You nodded eagerly. “I think I’ll go first.”

You waved at him before he called out to you in a confused whisper. “Where are you going? We’re from the same house anyway so let’s head back together.”

“I…What?”

“I said—”

“No, I heard you. But… Fred, I’m not a Gryffindor.” You took a moment to bask in the surprise that had Fred sputtering like a fish. “I’m a Hufflepuff.”

You grinned as he glanced at the entrance to the Hufflepuff basement a little ways away, speechless. He couldn’t believe he didn’t piece it together, or see your house colors on your robe when you showed it to him. Admittingly, it was a little dark. At that, you turned away, tapping on the barrels until the biggest one slid open to reveal a short hallway that went down.

Fred watched as you turned back around, just before entering, and waved. “Don’t you remember breaking my arm during Quidditch last year?”

Fred didn’t.

And as he walked back to the Gryffindor Tower, Fred startled with the realization that he hadn’t asked for her name. He’d apparently broken some rebellious Hufflepuff’s arm, who was bloody fit on top of it, and he didn’t even know her name.

Back in the dorms, George squinted at the light that bled through the now open door as his twin walked through it. He watched Fred as he collapsed on his bed face down before George smacked him with a pillow. What the hell was he sulking for?

“Where’s my meat pie?”

Fred groaned into his pillow and George raised an eyebrow.

“You forgot, I take it?” He sighed and received another groan in response. “What took you so long?”

Fred said something but with his face pressed against the pillow it was just muffled chatter. George smacked him again. “I can’t understand you, you git.”

Fred lifted his head. “I ran into a Hufflepuff on the way to the kitchens.” Dropped his head back down.

In the dark, George’s face was plainly confused. “A Hufflepuff? You’re joking, right?”

Fred made a sound that sounded like ‘no’.

“Alright then, what’s her name?”

Fred rolled onto his back, staring at the top of his canopy bed. “I forgot to ask. I also thought she was a Gryffindor.”

George frowned. “And…?”

“And,” Fred huffed, sitting up and facing George’s bed in the dark. “Apparently, I broke her arm during a Quidditch match last year.”

“You’re joking.”

“Wish I was.”

“You broke her arm and you don’t even know her name? Bloody rude.”

“Will you two shut it? I’d like to get some shut eye before I flunk Transfig tomorrow, thank you very much.” Lee Jordan huffed in the bed next to Fred’s, glaring at them in the dark before turning his back on them. “Her name’s [Y/N]. I commentated that match, mate. And as a matter of fact Fred, you were very rude. Didn’t even apologize.”

Lee clicked his tongue and promptly fell back asleep.

Fred looked wide eyed at George, who could tell that his twin brother already had something brewing in his head.

“Whatever it is, it can wait ‘till tomorrow. I’m going to go to bed now, starving mind you.” George stage-whispered at Fred and turned over.

Fred just sat there in the pale moonlight filtering through his window, cooking up a plan to see you again. And apologize of course.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wait, what? No, I’m not—this isn’t—why would you even think that?”
> 
> “Because that’s who you are, Weasley. It’s what you’re known to do.”

For the entirety of the next day, Fred Weasley saw your particular head of hair practically everywhere… just before you ducked out of sight.

He’d been tracking you down incessantly since breakfast, even going as far as to send underclassmen after you with an invitation to meet with him, which he has yet to hear a reply from. He didn’t understand why your face grew paler with every note. But alas, the day was only halfway through and that left plenty of chances for Fred to cook up some plan to sidle right back to your side.

George and Lee were particularly unsettled as to why you’ve suddenly been dropped onto Fred’s radar after a chance encounter and why he was so adamant about meeting you. They wondered if he’d found yet another prank victim and could only hope that he wouldn’t have you sprouting a lizard’s tail before the Yule Ball. But when they asked, their confusion only skyrocketed.

“I want to ask her to the ball.” He shrugged during potions, his concentration focused entirely on the bubbling cauldron in front of him that he didn’t notice the startled look his best mates shared.

“The ball, mate?” Lee queried, handing his partner the container of dried billywig stings when he asked for it. He leaned his elbows on the table as he gestured airily at the twins in front of him. “Isn’t that a little, you know, coldhearted for a prank?”

“Coldhearted?” Fred turned, eyebrows furrowed. “Why would my asking [Y/N] to be my date to the ball be coldhearted? And why would I prank her?”

George tried to read his brother’s expression, only to blink in surprise at what he saw. The bloke was being genuine. “Bloody hell, you’re serious? I thought you only wanted to apologize?”

“Damn, what exactly happened last night?” Lee gaped at the sporadic turn of events. Fred was known for being a little bit of a flirt, dating girls as fast as Hermione reads books. Just last week, he was swearing up and down that he’d go stag, saying he wanted to be as available as possible for the ladies.

Fred just faced the Wideye Potion they were concocting, lifting a shoulder to shrug. “Magic, if I had to guess.”

When his friends weren’t looking, he took the chance to glance across the room to where you stood with your partner, Cedric Diggory, your potion simmering and complete in front of you. He watched as you idly flipped the page of a thick textbook, talking animatedly about one of the passages with the Hogwarts Champion.

He watched as you huffed, mocked Cedric, and tucked your hair behind your ear, then eyed the scar on the exposed side of your elbow, no doubt a reminder of the injury you mentioned that he'd gifted you. He winced at how much of an arsehole he probably seemed last year, not bothering to apologize when the bludger he sent for you that ended up winning the match also ending up giving you an oblique fracture.

He knew of the details now because it was the first thing he hounded for shortly after breakfast, Madam Pomfrey tutting all the while.

He watched, unable to peel his eyes away, as you turned your head and met his gaze. Fred barely had time to smile before you abruptly looked away, cheeks pinking. Your reaction confused him; why were you acting like you didn’t know him? Why hadn’t you responded to his letters?

Surely, being tucked in a secluded alcove while evading possible consequences bonded you somehow?

With your face flaming, you stared at the open book in front of you, not quite digesting the text or whatever it was your best friend was trying to discuss with you. Mid-sentence, Cedric noticed that your eyes had glazed over and glanced towards the back of the room where Fred was now openly fixated on you.

“Pretty boy Weasley’s staring at you again. Can't believe he's been at it since breakfast.” He shook his head in disbelief as he nudged your shoulder. “What you did to get his attention, I’ll never know.”

“He calls you pretty boy Diggory, too, you know. Him and his twin.” You snapped, brows furrowed and cheeks still warm. “And I told you; I bumped into him last night.”

“I’m aware they call me that, and let me rephrase; I'll never understand.” Cedric then gestured at your pockets, stuffed with letters and notes from the particular ginger. “Also, a ‘bump’ doesn’t receive that much attention. Reckon you made an impression on him.”

You rolled your eyes, waving off his statement. “He’s going to prank me, or stand me up, whichever comes first, Ced. I know it.”

“Oh? How so?”

“I just do.”

Cedric leaned his hip on the table, a mocking smirk evident as ever. “‘You just do’? Have you asked him?”

“You don’t just ask someone if they want to prank you, you twit.” You scoffed. “Correction; you don’t just ask Frederick bloody Weasley if he wants to prank you.”

“Right, so you don’t just ask Fred Weasley if he wants to prank or stand you up.” He pointed out, playing along.

“That’s exactly what I said.” You glared at your best friend for making light of the situation.

He lifted his hands in surrender. “Just checking.”

The conversation was cut short as Professor Snape started his rounds of inspecting the completed potions. Since you were up at the front of the class, he approached your cauldron first, taking his time to examine the concoction. When he deemed it acceptable, he just nodded and turned his nose up, moving onto the next pair.

The warning bell tolled just as the Professor finished his rounds and announced to the class. “To those with potions worthy of my approval, you may collect a few vials from them. Hopefully, they’ll help you keep attentive when I’m handing out instructions, unlike Mr. Henley over here.”

Timothy Henley seemed to shrink as Professor Snape sneered at him, but thankfully did not take away points from your housemate. He then turned on the Weasley twins, just before you were all to move to your next class. Snape eyed Fred as he was looking over in your direction. “And Mr. Weasley, perhaps not too attentive.”

Cedric gave a loud cough, appearing to hold back laughter as your face burned even brighter.

+  
You ducked under the threshold of the barrel leading out of your common room, the strap of your bookbag digging into your shoulder from all the books weighing it down. Classes were over and you finally had time to aid Cedric in his search for anything that could help him with the Second Task.

You’d arranged to meet at the library all the way across the castle, but you remembered that you owned a couple books on underwater lore so you figured it best to take a detour to your dormitory. And as you set foot in the hallway outside the passage leading into the Hufflepuff basements, it was there that you found Fred waiting, leaning against the column directly opposite you, tapping his foot.

"Bit different," he spoke once he reached you, looking up and around the well lit hall. "Meeting you here in broad daylight, I mean. Must be the lighting."

Stopping dead in your tracks, you debated whether turning back was a good idea when he looked up and found you frozen with indecision. Too late now.

You watched as his face broke out into a smile and he walked to meet you, his long legs making short work of it.

Almost as if disobeying you, your lips twitched upwards at Fred's shot at a joke. You slowly started walking towards the end of the hall and found him following you. Because of that, you walked faster.

"Did you need something, Weasley?" You kept your focus trained forward, knowing that if you looked him in the eyes, it was game over. You shifted your weight. “I’m in a little bit of a hurry.”

Everything was different in the daytime. You were different in the daytime.

He glanced at your shoulder, down to your bag, and, before you could react, lifted it onto his own. “Where to?”

You sputtered, reaching for your belongings, but he just ducked out of reach, a wide grin on his face. “Honestly, what’s with you?”

He shrugged with the shoulder that wasn’t held down. “You weren’t responding to my letters, so I figured you preferred a more direct approach.”

“You just can’t take a hint, can you?” You sighed, resigned to the fact that this was your life now and that Fred was matching your pace.

“If you bothered to read my letters, you’d know that I want you to be my date to the ball.”

“I actually did read them, but you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t plan on being humiliated any time soon.”

Fred stopped walking, staring at you like you’d wounded him. “Why would you be humiliated if you went with me?”

It wasn’t like you could just keep walking, Cedric needed those books, so you paused as well, a little ways ahead of him, and crossed your arms.

“I’m sure you’d be a great date if you were sincere, but knowing your reputation, this—” you gestured between the two of you. “—is anything but. It’s just a cruel joke.”

“A joke?” He blinked, his expression turning confused. Then realization dawned upon him. “Wait, what? No, I’m not—this isn’t—why would you even think that?”

You snorted, all but rolling your eyes. He was really convincing, you had to give him that. No wonder the entirety of the castle fawned over the redhead. He had charm. “Because that’s who you are, Weasley. It’s what you’re known to do.”

Fred basked in a stunned silence while you, seeing the opportunity, took back your bookbag. He let you this time.

You waved as you turned your back on him and walked away. “See you around, lover boy. Don’t forget to report back to your twin that your attempt at a heartless joke failed.”

He just watched you leave without another word.

Once you were a good distance away, you all but ran towards the secluded nook at the farthest part of the library, one that was yours and Cedric’s particular spot, ever since second year. Here, light was dim and noise was at an all time low. When you reached it, you huffed and dropped the bag—which was practically bursting at the seams now—you’ve been lugging around on the table, taking the seat across from the gray-eyed boy who looked startled to see you.

He stopped flipping through the book on the table and stared at you as you unpacked. “What are you doing here? And where’s Fred?”

“Hullo, [Y/N]. I missed you and thank you so, so much for helping my desperate arse.” You mocked, taking the liberty of greeting yourself when Cedric practically ignored the fact that you’d both agreed to meet here. You pulled out a thick textbook and began flipping through the pages for anything helpful.

“Did something go wrong?” He asked and you looked up, frowning.

“What do you mean ‘did something go wrong?’, he tried asking me to the Yule as a joke.” You scoffed. “Didn’t get very far, though. I saw right through him.”

Cedric kept on staring.

You scowled, eyes snapping up. “What?”

He sighed, shaking his head at your cluelessness. “Can’t believe you turned down a genuine date to the ball.”

“Genuine?” You waved away the term. “You and I both know Fred Weasley doesn’t have a single genuine bone in his body.”

“Let’s see,” Cedric smirked, leaning back in his chair, ticking off fingers as he spoke. “He asked for my permission to take you, wrote formal letters asking you out, had them delivered, and even waited for you outside of the common room for a more direct approach, did he not?”

You gaped. “He asked you for permission? Why? And why do you know he was waiting for me?”

He nodded. “Simple. I just asked him if he wanted to prank or stand you up after Potions, even after your protests about that. He was quite nice about it, said he wanted to get to know you better and, I quote, ‘what better way to do so than at a ball?’ Then I merely suggested he wait you out, knowing how stubborn you can be.”

Cedric watched, satisfied, as numerous emotions passed through you. “If that doesn’t scream ‘genuine’, then I don’t know what will.”

You sat there in stunned silence, struggling to form words as he leaned his elbows on the table, locked his hands together, and rested his chin on the tops of his knuckles, all while sporting a smug look on his face. “So remind me again why you’re here?”

“Oh Helga,” You breathed. “I was so heartless, I practically insulted him as I left. I’ve got to—”

You swallowed, your throating having suddenly gone desert dry. “I’ve got to apologize somehow.”

“That’s what he was trying to do, too, you know. For last year.” Cedric gestured to your arm before looking back down at the book he was studying.

As if you’d been struck by lightning, you hurriedly tried to pack your things but Cedric just waved you off, not even bothering to lift his head. “I’ll take care of that, you go get your man.”

You shot him a sharp look as you brushed yourself off. “He’s not my man, Ced.”

He looked up when your steps faded away and watched fondly as you rushed out of the library, shaking his head with a small smile on his face. Ever since last year, you and Fred had been dancing just outside of each other’s social circles, and Cedric knew it was a matter of time before you met.

He knew you’d caught Fred’s eye long before today, having gotten to know Fred during the summer. He also knew just how much you liked Fred, even after the Quidditch match last year, as much as you tried to repress those feelings.

“Not yet,” he muttered to himself. Then he turned back to the assortment of books that was supposed to help him breathe underwater. “Now, where were we?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’re going in circles.”
> 
> “Well, I’d like to dance circles around you, [Y/L/N]. At the Ball.”

You’re hustling up the staircase towards the Gryffindor Tower, the only place that makes sense at the moment because you didn’t know enough about Fred to know his usual whereabouts, or know enough about Fred, period. But it seemed like luck was on your side as his towering height seemed to make him stick out like a sore thumb amongst the rest of the students headed back to their common room.

“Weasley!” You called, waving your arms in the air like a lunatic and attracting the attention of everyone around you. “Weasley, hey!”

His hulking figure seemed to slow to a halt, eventually turning around to meet your determined gaze. He had seemed to be in a conversation with someone, but you couldn’t see who because from what you could tell, they were much, much shorter than he was. Only when you saw the head of flowing red hair did you figure that he was talking to Ginny Weasley, his younger sister.

A small smile seemed to grow on his lips at the sight of you approaching him as well as a prideful glint that shone brightly in his eyes when he crossed his arms. “Well, well, if it isn’t the heartbreaker herself.”

You finally came to a stand in front of him, smiling in greeting at his sister, who smiled back as she elbowed her brother in the ribs. He yelped at the gesture and rubbed at his side, giving Ginny a ‘what the bloody hell was that for?’ look.

“Looks like you won’t be needing any more advice, so I’ll be taking my leave.” She shot you one last smile before walking towards the direction of the Fat Lady’s portrait.

As soon as she was gone, you turned to Fred and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. An apology. “I’m so sorry for reacting the way I did, I should have listened to you, not to mention I was absolutely judgemental towards you—”

You were so focused on getting your own apology out, you didn’t realize that Fred was doing the exact same thing at the same time.

“Sorry about your arm, I knew how much of a jerk I was then, and I guess I should’ve been a little more aware of how I might’ve come across earlier—”

Both of you stopped, bringing the somewhat one sided conversation to a halt, and practically tripped over what to say next.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“No, you go, I interrupted, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine! I just—”

With a dry bout of laughter, you cut yourself off, running a hand through your hair. Fred’s eyes followed the movement. “We’re going in circles.”

Fred seemed to pick up his confidence once again. “Well, I’d like to dance circles around you, [Y/L/N]. At the Ball.”

You blinked up at him. “You know my name? I don’t remember telling you.”

“I have my ways.” Fred’s grin was wider than the Cheshire Cat. You rolled your eyes as he chuckled. “Right, well, I need to formally and properly apologize for breaking your arm.”

“What, this thing?” You momentarily touched your scar and waved off the statement. “Old news, Weasley.”

Fred then gestured down the corridor and you walked with him back down the steps. “What made you come see me? Or change your mind about me rather?”

“Cedric. Made me realize I treated you unfairly.” You hummed, turning at him with a bashful look on your face. “Sorry about what I said.”

“Sticks and stones.” He waved it off, shrugging. “Believe it or not, you aren’t the first person to react that way towards me.”

“Oh, I believe it.” You laughed, absentmindedly touching your hand to his bicep. Almost immediately, you felt the muscles flex just beneath your fingertips, and your face flared red. “Sorry.”

“S’alright.” He shrugged and offered up the rest of his arm. You took it. “Consider this practice for the ball.”

“I haven’t said yes, you know.” You teased, knowing full well you were going with him. You wanted to get to know the guy you spent huddled with in a secluded alcove a little better.

Fred seemed to follow your train of thought, a mischievous look crossing his face. “Shall we find another alcove and see if I can convince you?”

To anyone else, it looked like another Hogwarts couple strolling their way through the courtyard. But to each other, they looked like someone worth getting to know. And who knows, maybe it could develop into something a little more. But for now, apologies were set and expectations were hammered down. No more judgements were held between the two of them as slowly but surely, they found a safe place in one another.

“Hey,” you spoke up after a beat of silence of just soaking up the last of the sunshine before sunset. “You up for another late night stroll tonight?”

“What’s this? A Hufflepuff on a rebellious streak?” Fred grinned, throwing his arm over the girl he’d eventually come to love. “We’ve barely started hanging out, don’t tell me I’ve already become a bad influence on you?”

You playfully knocked aside the boy you’d surprisingly find yourself growing fond of. “You wish. I was always this badass.”

“I’m so taking you as my date to the ball.” Fred laughed, messing up your hair. “Whether or not you agree, you’re mine.”

“How alpha male of you, Weasley.” You rolled your eyes and pushed him away, but the small smile on your lips betrayed your actions. Was it getting hotter? Or was it your face again?

Fred watched as you fixed your hair, eyes bright. “Call me Freddie.”


End file.
